Artie's New Horse
by mudstalker
Summary: Ever wondered what happens to all Artie's horses? Just something I thought might be amusing...


**Artie's New Horse**

Disclaimer- I don't own Bonanza or the Wild Wild West, or any of the characters involved.

Jim and Artie walked up to the rancher's house, Artie walking much slower than Jim. "Come on, Artie," Jim grinned mischievously. "I'm sure there's bound to be a horse here for you."

Artie cringed and just walked slower. Of all the beasts of the world, Artie hated horses more than anything else. Of course, he knew he had to buy one because his job required him to have one, but still. Artie hated horses and he disliked riding about as much as he liked facing Loveless. And the worst thing about this whole venture was that Jim was coming along.

Tall, thin, extraordinarily agile, James West was the perfect athlete. He handled his horse Black Jack like an Arabian desert sheik, and his horse (as spirited as a tornado) regarded Jim with all the respect a loving dog gives to its master. Over the years the two had been partners, Jim's great horse had survived every ordeal and had lived to serve just one more time. Artie's horses had not been so lucky.

His first horse, a plain brown quarter horse, had been shot by a train robber. His next horse, a gentle mare, had been bitten by a snake. After her, the next horse had been blown up by one of Manzeppie's bombs. Next, another horse had a tree fall on him. Jim had sold Artie's gentle northern mare after he assumed that Artie had died, and after her, Artie lost track of his horses. He felt evil almost; a bad omen to the beasts of burden. He could never keep a horse for very long, and he felt that somewhere in the backs of their minds the horses knew it. They would eye him with eyes as big as the moon and neigh "There he comes. Artie the ripper." This last horse had broken its leg, and following custom Artie had shot it with his pistol. He reflected bitterly that the gun had barely had enough time to cool before he and Jim were off to yet another ranch.

"Well, what can I do for you gentlemen?" asked the rancher, a middle aged man with a family of three sons. "Just tell me which one you want, and I'll bring it out."

Artie stepped up to the corral. The whinny of the horses made him cringe. Jim grinned evilly. "Well, we need something fast," he began.

The man waved his hand and shouted out, "Joe!" Joe, the youngest, came out riding a white Arabian mare. "It's name is White Fire!" called Joe. White Fire's long legs kicked out proudly, and it let out a fierce whinny as it eyed Artie. It seemed to say, "Well, _you_ won't be _my_ master!" Artie gulped as he watched it prance around the corral. It reminded him of something beautiful, but deadly. It was like every female villain Artie and Jim had ever come across.

"No," Artie gulped. "I don't think that will do."

"Give us something with spirit!" chuckled Jim.

The boy rode the horse back into the stable, and the rancher beckoned forth another son. "Adam!" he called. Adam, the oldest, came out riding a black mustang. "This one's called Mars!" he stated. "I broke him myself!" Mar's strong muscles glistened in the sun, and it leapt about with spirit to spare. It looked at Artie and seemed to say, "You wait and see what I'm going to do with you!" Artie cringed as it took measured, elegant steps towards him. The horse reminded him of Manzeppie.

"Nope," said Artie, looking pale. "I do not think that is the horse for me."

The rancher nodded and furrowed his brow in thought. But Jim was not through having his fun yet.

"How about something more compact; something that has a lot of punch." Jim winked at Artie.

Artie growled and remembered exactly where he had hidden the pirated bottle of cyanide.

The rancher beckoned out Joe again, and he came out riding a Pinto. The horse was small but muscular, and its teeth bared fiercely. "Its name is Earthquake!" called Joe in amusement. Earthquake looked Artie over with an intent and appraising glare. It seemed to say, "Just you try and catch me the first time I buck you off." Artie shivered in dread. The horse had Loveless' eyes.

"No," Artie practically whispered, looking up at the rancher. "I'm afraid they're all so... spirited. Tell me, do you have any gentle horses? And strong," he added, as the memory of a tree falling on one of his horses came back to him. The rancher grinned and yelled out, "Hoss!"

Hoss came out riding a gigantic mare. Part draft horse and some other breed, this animal plodded out happily. Its huge muscles rippled under a plain brown coat, and a plain brown mane blew gently in the breeze. Its tongue was lolling out like a dogs, and its eyes were soft and warm. It came to the fence and put its nose to Artie's cheek. It wuffed softly in his ear. "Her name is Potato," Hoss said with a grin. "I raised her."

Artie patted her neck appreciatively. "Truly, this has to be the best horse in the Ponderosa," he sighed.

Hoss grinned. "Let's take her out," he suggested.

Jim watched as Artie and Hoss walked the horse out to the pasture. "He will never learn," sighed Jim in amusement.

The rancher smiled. "Happy is the man who knows his horse," he stated. "And who knows what horse will fit him."

Much later that evening, Artie and Jim rode back to the train. Artie's new mount plugged along, about as happy-go-lucky as her rider. Black Jack, eager to establish pecking order, had already bit her once, but Potato was so huge she didn't even feel it. Besides, she was so good natured that by the time they were back on the train, Black Jack was starting to think she was cute.

Artie took extra care in grooming Potato that evening. "I hope you like it here," he said as he polished the tack. "I hope to keep you for a long, long time."


End file.
